In an Instant
by Patalena
Summary: Oneshot.  It only takes a second for things to go wrong. One such moment occurs as Vlad and Robin search for the Gem of Life…


The Gem of Life: a gemstone rumored to cure vampirism in anyone who drank from a cup containing the gem. It sounded almost too good to be true. Better yet, the Count was its last known owner before it disappeared, or at least that's what Vlad read in one of the Count's many vampire history books.

Naturally, Vlad had talked Robin into helping him find this latest possible cure. His sixteenth birthday was less than a year away and he was more determined than ever to find a way to avoid becoming a vampire. That was why they were up in the castle attic late one afternoon, slowly combing through mountains of clutter. And that was how it happened…

"Hey Vlad, look at this," Robin called, taking a cape embroidered with gold thread from the inside of an antique trunk and holding it up.

"What?" Vlad popped up from behind some boxes with a hopeful expression on his face. The hope quickly faded when he saw the cape in Robin's hands. "Oh, that's one of my dad's old capes. He never wears it anymore."

Robin draped the garment around his shoulders and admired his reflection in a cracked mirror. "Cool."

"But not what we're looking for," Vlad said, opening a small golden box engraved with the Dracula family crest. Finding the box empty, he threw it aside with a frustrated growl.

"What does this gem thing look like anyway?" Robin asked as he returned the cape to where he found it.

"Red," Vlad replied, running a hand through his hair. "Blood red. Just like everything else to do with vampires," he sighed. "Over the years it's been concealed in different ways, sometimes set into jewelry and once it was fixed to the inside of a silver cup. Knowing my dad, the gem could be hidden anywhere."

"Did the cup look like that one up there?" Robin pointed to a spot near the top of one of the towering piles of dusty relics where a tarnished silver goblet stuck out from underneath some pieces of worn battle armor.

"Maybe." Vlad squinted at the cup. "I need to get a closer look at it."

Vlad went to retrieve the goblet and Robin went back to rummaging through the trunk. He had only turned his back for a few seconds before he heard the deafening crash of falling metal. He whipped around in surprise at the sound. The top part of the pile had fallen, and Vlad fell with it. "What a way to scare the life out of me," he said, seeing Vlad on his back next to the pile. "Are you okay?" Robin asked as he made his way over to help him up.

He looked down at Vlad and knew something was wrong. Vlad gasped for air and coughed, and Robin saw blood. "Vlad?" he asked, his voice rising in alarm.

Robin hastily removed a candelabra and shield that had landed on Vlad, revealing a dagger that had fallen as well. The blade had imbedded itself in his chest, driven in nearly to the hilt by the weight of the shield. Robin gasped and paled, dropping to his knees beside him. "Vlad!" He looked from the dagger to Vlad's face, which had gone chalk-white.

"Oh god, oh god." He wrung his hands, not knowing what to do as blood seeped out around the blade. The dark stain was slowly spreading outward across Vlad's green shirt.

Vlad opened his mouth, trying to speak. In a guttural rasp he said, "T-take it…"

"Take what? Take it out?" Robin asked frantically, trying to understand. Vlad nodded weakly. Putting one hand on Vlad's shoulder for leverage Robin grasped the handle of dagger and pulled it free. To his horror, the wound bled faster and he pressed his hand against it to staunch the flow. "Damn it!" Robin could see that his efforts were not working. "Help!" he shouted, hoping the Count would hear.

Vlad shuddered and made a sound as though trying to speak again, but Robin couldn't make out what it was.

"No, no, no, no," he muttered as Vlad's labored breathing faltered. As Robin watched helplessly, Vlad went silent and still. "Vlad!" he cried, breaking into sobs.

The Count arrived, clad in his dressing gown. He flitted across the attic so quickly that nearby cobwebs and dust were swept up in his wake. He let out a strangled cry and pushed Robin aside with such force that the boy flew into a pile of crates. Grimacing from the impact, Robin slowly lifted himself up from the floor as the Count knelt next to Vlad. The Count tenderly closed Vlad's partly open eyes and brushed the hair out of his face. "It's all right, Vladdy," he murmured. Without saying a word to Robin, he gathered Vlad's limp body into his arms and flitted back out of the attic.

Robin collapsed back against the crates and sobbed until he couldn't weep any longer. He had lost track of time when he heard footsteps coming up the attic stairs. He didn't look to see who approached, keeping his face buried in his arms. When the footsteps stopped he heard Ingrid's calm voice say, "So, you killed my brother."

"It was an accident," he said, a lump forming in his throat. He looked up at her through teary eyes. "He fell…"

Ingrid crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "Well, however it happened, he's dead now." She smiled. "I suppose I should thank you. Dad would have staked me if I did it, and now you've made my life much easier."

Robin's lip quivered and Ingrid snorted derisively. "Look at you, you're a mess. Come with me," she instructed.

Too broken to protest, Robin pushed himself to his feet and trailed after her. As he walked by the place where Vlad had fallen, he noticed the goblet that Vlad had been trying to reach. He picked it up stealthily so Ingrid would not notice. Upon finding the inside of the cup empty, he felt a bitter sadness that made tears burn at his eyes once more. There was no sign of a gemstone. It had all been for nothing. Swallowing his grief again, he set the goblet back on one of the dusty boxes as he followed Ingrid down the stairs.

* * *

><p>Ingrid led Robin to Vlad's room. He stood in the doorway as she entered the room and began rummaging through Vlad's things as though they were her own. "These should fit you," she said, shoving some clothes at him.<p>

"I don't-" he began.

"You can't go home as you are. Now go clean yourself up and put these on."

Robin looked down at himself, covered in dust and cobwebs… and blood. Vlad's blood. He took the clothes from Ingrid. On top of the pile he recognized a black t-shirt from the time he and Vlad went to a rock concert and bought matching band shirts.

"Go," Ingrid ordered.

Robin swallowed thickly and obeyed.

* * *

><p>Ingrid was waiting for Robin when he came out of the bathroom. "Thanks for the clothes," he muttered as he walked past her.<p>

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Home," he said despondently. "It's nearly sunset. If your dad wants to kill me he knows where to find me."

She followed him down the stairs to the great hall. Robin stopped in his tracks when he entered the room.

A large table stood in the middle of the hall. The chairs that normally surrounded the table had been taken away, and an open coffin rested on the table like a macabre centerpiece. "Take a look," Ingrid whispered in his ear.

Robin slowly walked toward the table, his eyes locked on the coffin. He didn't know what he expected to see, but he didn't think Vlad would look so… peaceful. Someone – probably Renfield – had washed the blood off of him and dressed him in a black silk shirt and trousers and freshly polished shoes. His hair was neatly combed and his arms were folded across his chest.

The lump returned to Robin's throat. "Where's the Count?"

"In the crypt with Renfield. They're preparing a place for him," she nodded to Vlad.

A final resting place. A bitter smile tugged at Robin's mouth. Vlad had sworn he would never sleep in a coffin down in the crypt. Over his dead body, he had said. He'd been right about that much. Robin hastily wiped away a tear as it rolled down his cheek.

Robin reached into the coffin to put his hand over Vlad's. He knew the fatal wound lay beneath that hand. Even without that knowledge, touching Vlad would prove to anyone that he was not sleeping. He was already cold. And his skin… his skin that used to have a healthy pink glow had lost all color, leaving his face the palest white. Robin didn't care that Ingrid hovered nearby, watching him intently, but he knew he could not stay.

"Goodbye, Vlad," he said softly, taking one last look at Vlad's serene face.

* * *

><p>As Robin began to remove his hand, Vlad's eyes flickered open.<p>

"Robin?" Vlad asked, gazing up at him with clear blue eyes.

He gasped and jumped back from the coffin.

Pale hands gripped the sides of the coffin and Vlad pulled himself up to a sitting position. He looked at Robin, his brow furrowed in confusion at his friend's tear-streaked face.

Robin stared at Vlad in disbelief. "I thought…"

The boys heard stifled laughter and both turned to see Ingrid burst out laughing. "You should have seen your face!" she cackled. "You actually thought he was dead!"

Vlad glanced from Ingrid to Robin and back again. "You didn't tell him? Nobody told him?"

"Tell me what?" Robin asked, bewildered.

"If a vampire is mortally wounded before the transformation, we don't actually die," Vlad explained patiently. "We awake the next night with our full powers – as one of the undead."

Robin shook his head, trying to take in what had happened. "She told me you were dead. And I was there…" He looked to where Ingrid stood watching them with amusement.

"Ingrid, you snake!" Vlad snapped at her. "How could you be so… evil?"

"Isn't it obvious, my dear little brother?" she asked, breaking into a wicked smile. "It's fun." She turned to leave, and as she pranced away she called back over her shoulder, "You should try it sometime!"


End file.
